Philter
by Starzki
Summary: The reality of the situation hit Miroku right then. He spun in her grasp and she wasted no time pulling his face down into hers and kissing him with a passion that almost burned. He knew it was the fever from whatever potion was acting on her, but he couldn't stop himself from responding.


Author's note: This fic is set sometime after Kagome returns from her time back to Inuyasha. In other words, Miroku and Sango are in a stable relationship where sexual activity has already been established. Love potion fics can be kind of creepy, consent-wise, but I chose for them to have a tacit consent already in place based on how happy they are in their relationship. Enjoy your reading!

Philter

By Starzki

-x-

Miroku hadn't expected this many people. He was surprised that so many demon exterminators still survived across the land.

Sango gasped at the sight before her. She had been excited for this gathering ever since the word of it had come to their village months before. Even though it meant weeks of travel and they would have to leave their children with Kagome and Inuyasha, Sango jumped at the chance to meet with other taiji-ya and share knowledge about the profession.

The area spread before them at the foot of a small hill had once been a pasture, but the wide swath of prairie that abutted a barn had been completely transformed. Rows and rows of booths were set up and it appeared that almost a hundred exterminators were selling their wares. Later, there would be small group discussions where everyone could talk about their families, their training, and any tricks they were willing to share with others.

It was the first such gathering of any kind and Miroku smiled as Sango's eyes filled with wonder and curiosity. He could tell that she was forcing herself to resist running to the nearest booth.

They took their time perusing booths selling weapons, specialized clothing, maps, scrolls, paintings, and herbal remedies. However, it was the booth selling specialized potions that had arrested Miroku's and Sango's curiosity.

A number of vials filled with different shades of amber liquid lined the table. The old woman behind the table, small, bent, and frail with her advanced years, smiled at the young couple.

"Ah, look. I have distilled the venom of a rather large toad demon. Each of these potions will affect your senses." She waved her hand over the vials. Sango nodded thoughtfully. "This one will help you see in total darkness," the crone explained, motioning to the reddest formula. "And this one will increase your hearing," she indicated a different, yellower vial.

"Sango's senses are already quite sharp," explained Miroku, unsure if the concoctions were anything but placebos.

"I can see that, young man. But every demon hunter relies on the fact they can sense demons, no?" The crone reached for one of the lightest color vials. She picked one up, then set it down and picked up another, squinting at the near-identical shades. "Ah, this one," she made her selection. "You can tell when demons approach because you can sense their power, but your body also reacts to their unique pheromones."

Sango was nodding, curious. "I think my village was investigating this at one time."

"This potion will increase your sensitivity to those pheromones. If you take just a drop of this, you'll be able to sense even the smallest demon from far, far away."

Sango looked to Miroku. He could tell that she wanted to believe the old woman. The last few demons she'd been called to help defeat were both small. She hadn't had any trouble, but Miroku knew that Sango would take any edge she could when it came to her profession.

Miroku cleared his throat. "Well, we can't just take your word for its power, can we?"

The old woman looked aghast. "Of course not! You, of course, may sample it." She produced a tray of small rice balls from behind her wares. "There are demons being brought in for demonstrations this afternoon. They should be close enough you can sense them with this potion even though you cannot sense them now." She dipped a thin rod into the vial in her hands, then allowed just a drop onto one of the rice balls on the tray. "Try, if you would like," she offered.

Miroku watched as his wife considered the rice ball. She sniffed it delicately, then popped it into her mouth and swallowed it. Then she waited.

The crone watched Sango's reaction just as intently as Miroku.

"I feel something happening," Sango said after a few moments. "I feel… hot." She pulled at the collar of her yukata. A definite blush, coral as the pads on her demon-fighting attire, stole up her chest and neck.

The crone looked back down to the vial still in her hand, her expression turned from confusion to horror.

"I can't sense any demons…" Sango's voice was shaky and she was trying to fan herself with her hand. Her face pinked and her pupils dilated.

"What is going on?" demanded Miroku. Whatever the potion was, it wasn't working but definitely was still affecting Sango.

The crone set the vial down and, in a flash, grabbed Miroku's robes so that he was bent to the old woman's level. "There's been a mix up. The potions are similar in that they make the person taking it more sensitive but this one…"

"What?" growled Miroku.

"This one… is a love potion. She'll be fine once she…" the woman trailed off, managing to look terrified, rueful, and embarrassed all at the same time. Miroku had no time for her to be sorry for her mistake. He wanted her to say it.

"What? Once she… what?"

"Oh, child," the crone hissed. "Take your wife somewhere private. Soon. It's a strong formulation and she won't be able to help herself, even in public, if you wait too long."

Miroku's eyes trailed back to Sango. She was still furiously fanning herself, loosening the collar of the yukata even further, exposing cleavage. She brought her eyes up to meet Miroku's and pinned him with a look so sultry and full of desire that he could do nothing but gulp.

"Hurry!" the voice hissed behind him, but he was already moving. He tried to be as discreet as possible as he rushed her into the barn. Sango's breathing was becoming more labored.

"I feel… I feel…" she kept saying, voice increasingly breathless.

A number of people were in the barn, taking advantage of its shade, but Miroku spied an open door in the back.

Trying to be inconspicuous, Miroku ushered her through the doorway and shut the door behind them. He moved a nearby table to block the door to any intruders and set his staff upon it.

A quick survey of the room revealed what looked like a storage area of some kind. It was currently being used to store foods and vegetables that would no doubt be cooked this afternoon for that night's supper. Dried meats were in the far corner and onions and radishes overflowed from sacks on the ground.

Miroku could take in no more of the room because his senses were suddenly overwhelmed with Sango embracing him from behind. He could smell her hair and feel her warmth. Her hands roved over his chest and stomach while her breathing intensified behind him. She was pressing kisses into his neck, murmuring between pants of breath as one hand dipped lower to cup his groin.

The reality of the situation hit Miroku right then. He spun in her grasp and she wasted no time pulling his face down into hers and kissing him with a passion that almost burned. He knew it was the fever from whatever potion was acting on her, but he couldn't stop his body from responding.

He pulled her to him tightly, roughly, and maneuvered them to the corner opposite the door. Sango's tongue tasted his and she hummed in appreciation. Miroku pushed her against the wall and she used it as leverage to arch her back, pressing her breasts, then her pelvis against her husband while pulling at his hair and greedily devouring his mouth.

The change in Sango fascinated Miroku. When they made love, he had been at first surprised at her lack of shyness in front of him. But he realized that with everything they had already gone through, she trusted him and was eager to express her love. Early in the marriage, sex was lighthearted and fun, filled with both passion and laughter. Children had changed things, of course, but Sango still responded beautifully to Miroku's advances whenever the two of them could find some privacy.

Privacy, though, was something that he and Sango didn't truly have at the moment. Miroku could see shadows between the slats of the side of the building and hear muffled talking and laughter from the people outside. Sango either didn't hear the people outside, or didn't care.

She was currently tearing at Miroku's hair, dragging his mouth to her sensitive neck. He obliged her and lightly bit the rosy skin he found there, then soothed it with a lick. Sango's breathy, "Oh God," made Miroku decide that he didn't care how many people were outside, either.

"I need your hands on me," Sango managed between heaving gasps. Miroku grinned into her collar bone and moved on hand to her breast, and the other to her ass. She gave a small grunt and writhed under his touches. "Harder," she demanded, voice rising above a whisper.

Miroku captured her mouth again and gripped at her flesh beneath her clothes as forcefully as he dared. Sango hooked one leg around her husband and slowly began to undulate against him. He could feel her heat against his upper thigh as she ground against him again and again.

She was all activity. Her hands move between pulling at his hair, working at finding his skin beneath his robes, and pressing his hands more forcefully against her. She was almost fidgety in her need. Any time Miroku's mouth moved against her ear or neck, she would throw her head back, thunking it against the wall. Her every movement communicated her desperate need, her desire. Combined with her fever, Miroku felt as though he was trying to make out with pure flame.

Years had mellowed him, and marriage to the most sexy woman he had ever met meant that he no longer took such risks when it came to sex. But this situation, how public they were, stirred his mind into old memories of trysts in rooms where parents slept next door and encounters with strangers he would never meet again. Those memories, along with the way that Sango was nearly begging him to satisfy her, triggered his hormones and his latent shamelessness.

Miroku decided to take control of this situation. He tore himself away from Sango, just enough to give himself room to spin her around so that she faced the wall. He pinned her left hand high above her head and pressed himself against her back. He made sure that she could feel his erection pressing into the swell of her ass and gripped her jaw and turned her face so that he could whisper into her ear.

"What do you want, my Sango?"

Her right hand gripped the horizontal beam in front of her so hard that he could hear her nails tearing up little fibers of wood. She had stopped squirming, but her breathing hadn't slowed at all. All she could produce was a little whine. He could feel her jaw clenching and unclenching under his fingers. She arched further, bowing her back so that she reciprocated and pressed back against his cock.

Her movement made Miroku see black spots for a moment. He nearly gave in, he knew he would eventually, but he was having fun. He moved his right hand from her face and into the folds of her yukata, finding her left breast. He squeezed it harshly, then rolled her nipple between his fingers. Sango gasped and gave a small cry.

"Is this what you want?" He rolled the nipple again, this time more roughly, pinching as hard as he dared. He also brought his mouth to the swell of her shoulder where it met her neck and gave a hard suck. Sango cried out again and he felt her shudder against him.

"Shh," he warned into her ear, but she seemed deaf to him.

"I want," she gasped. "I want… more."

"More of this?" He twisted the nipple again. She jerked with pleasure.

"N-no," she finally said. She kept gulping back gasps and with a hiss of frustration, she moved her right hand lower and up between her legs.

"I n-need you… here," she finally got out between mewls of pleasure. Miroku was fascinated. Sango only ever touched herself in front of him when he asked her. To see her so frayed, so undone and ready for him was simultaneously concerning and erotic.

Still playing, Miroku grabbed Sango's right wrist and pinned it up above her head with her left. Then he lost no time in finding the gap in Sango's clothes and bringing his fingers gently up the inside of her right thigh. As he neared his goal, he couldn't believe what he felt. Sango's thighs were smeared with her own cream, her wetness literally dripping from her. His fingers were slathered with her hunger for him. He found his way to her center, hot, ripe and ready. He parted her lips and heard Sango sigh in relief. He found her nub and plucked at it. She jolted at his touch and then ground down onto his hand. He rubbed harder and it was mere seconds before her moans grew in volume.

Miroku was suddenly very aware of where they were and the fact that people might try to come in at any minute. He knew he had to stop playing and take care of the situation as quickly and quietly as he could. He moved his hand away to loosen his robes and free his cock, all while keeping Sango's hands still above her head.

"Houshi-sama… please…" Her voice was raw, on the verge of sobs. He momentarily stilled at her words. She hadn't used his title in years and the fact that she reverted to it, to a time they had wanted, but couldn't yet consummate their attraction made him almost as desperate for release as his young wife.

"I need… you… inside me," she begged as Miroku lifted up her hem and exposed her. She arched her back even more to give him access.

"Yes," he whispered back and buried himself inside of her.

His thrusts were slow and strong and each one wrung a low moan or a grunt from Sango. As much as he wanted to make it last, they didn't have the time. So he dropped her hands and gripped her hips and quickened his pace inside of her.

This pleased Sango. He could feel the walls of her pussy pulsing around him, drawing him as deep as possible. Her arms were both forward, her back parallel to the ground as she gripped the horizontal beam with both hands. Her moans turned into cries that were not at all soft. He needed to finish and he needed to make sure that they weren't caught.

He brought his right hand forward and grabbed at Sango's face once more, only this time, he covered her mouth. He didn't like being so bent over, so he pulled her back so that she was standing against him, his hand over her mouth with the other gripped her breast and held her pinned to his body. Sango widened her legs and found a way to grip the outside of his thighs between her own so that she could use her muscles to help thrust down on his jerking cock.

His thrusts grew shorter and harder. In a supreme show of just how strong and flexible she was, Sango met his thrusts from above, using both gravity and her legs to slam into him until he was thrusting too fast for her to keep up.

Her cries of ecstasy were only partially muffled and Miroku could feel her tears roll down his hand. She seemed at just the precipice of her orgasm, the crest before the glorious fall. He had to finish this, at least for her, so he ignored his screaming muscles and thrust as hard and fast as he could. He again whispered into her ear.

"Come for me, sweet Sango. Come now."

And she did. And it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She screamed against his hand and convulsed above him. Her pussy pulsed and shuddered around him and she seemed to want to jerk out of his arms, but he held her close. He kept moving inside her, wringing out every last spasm, every cry, attempt to fling herself forward. She was magnificent.

Her body finally started to relax and Miroku fell to his knees, dropping his arms to help catch them before they hit the floor too hard. Sango bent forward, on her elbows and knees, still gasping at each thrust. He once again gripped her hips and was instantly riding out his own intense orgasm. While being so public had inspired some of his earlier ardor, as he came, everything, everyone in the outside world but Sango was forgotten.

Spent, Miroku sat back, sliding out of Sango. She turned onto her side on the floor and just tried to catch her breath. Miroku did the same. He wiped his face with his hand and looked around. They couldn't have been in the room more than ten minutes, but it had felt like hours. He found a clean cloth on a shelf just above his head and cleaned himself off and situated his robes.

He moved to Sango to help her do the same. He wiped off her swollen sex and her thighs. He passed the rag over the stains on the floor and then threw it in a far corner. Sango had caught her breath and she sat up. The blush was receding from her chest and neck, but still glowed under her tear-stained cheeks.

"You okay now?"

Sango giggled. "Yeah. Thank you. I guess I needed that."

Miroku chuckled, then set to work helping her straighten her clothes. He offered his sleeve for her to wipe her face, but there was no doubt that Sango had been crying.

Just then someone began trying to open the door. Sango shot Miroku an alarmed look and he sprang into action. He found his staff and used it to crush one of the onions on the floor. He gathered the pieces and rubbed the juice and oils onto both of their hands. The strong scent of onion soon overshadowed the smell of sex in the room.

"Just a minute," he called. "My wife has gotten onion juice in her eye."

Miroku moved the table away from the door and stepped back. Two people, a man and a woman both dressed to prepare food looked in with curiosity.

"Ah, sorry," said Miroku. "We came in here by accident and stepped on an onion. In trying to clean it up, my wife accidentally touched her eye. I think she'll be okay now, though."

The strangers looked at the young couple with concern. "You sure? We need to start on dinner, but if you need help, the water is…"

"That's not necessary, thank you. We have water with our belongings. We'll leave you to your work."

Miroku hustled Sango outside where they both tried to stifle their giggles. It had been quite an experience. Miroku figured that they could go back to their lodgings in order to recover for the rest of the afternoon and still be back before that evening's talks.

As they left, they walked by the old woman's booth once more. The crone stood humbly in front of them, seemingly mortified, saying, "It was a mistake. I didn't mean it, but you see that my potions are good."

"This was more than a mistake. You should not be selling such a powerful potion!" accused Miroku.

"I am truly sorry, young man. These vials will be more clearly labeled in the future. I can only beg your pardon."

Miroku looked thoughtful. "I cannot deny that these are truly powerful potions. As long as you sell them at half price, we'll take three doses, please," Miroku said. Sango gave a small cry and punched her husband lightly in the arm.

Miroku answered, "If you think that I'm not going to get a turn to try this out, you don't know me at all."

Sango's shock faded and a smile overtook her mouth. Her cheeks, only recently losing their color, pinked up once again. "Pervert," she replied.

END.

* * *

AN2: A special thanks to ScribeFigaro for beta-ing this for me. Thanks for reading. Reviews are always welcome!


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